


Sort of, Kind of, Wait

by fadinglove



Category: DCU
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Identity Reveal, M/M, Minor Barry Allen/Iris West, No Plot/Plotless, PWP without Porn, Pre-Slash, Random & Short, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadinglove/pseuds/fadinglove
Summary: Hal Jordan has never seen a more perfect being than Bruce Wayne himself. Annoying how Batman doesn't share his enthusiasm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly wrote this just as an excuse to admire the holy blessing that is bruce wayne. enjoy and leave a kudos because I accidentally deleted a whole chunk of this and rewrote it. also, the timeline is messed up and weird but whatever

The first time Hal Jordan sees Bruce Wayne in person, it's at some charity event that Barry and Iris have dragged him to. Iris is there to report, and she probably was the only one actually invited, based on Barry's unyielding enthusiasm. 

It's all rich snobs in designer suits and dresses probably worth more than his apartment. They mill around, flirting, the women bursting with peals of fake laughter and everyone surely has a double meaning to everything they say tonight. An undertone that reeks of malice. And there are people like Barry, who gets passionately in over his head talking about sciences.

They're sitting at a round table, creamy cloth draped over. Hal's in his best suit- which is, admittedly, not that good at all. But he flashes a smile to everyone who looks his way, winning him a few admiring glasses from some of the ladies. Although they quickly dissipate when his reputation is whispered around- dishonorably discharged, estranged from his family, a former soldier who wasted his life.

And of course the couple he's with care but they don't care too much. And now Barry is bragging endlessly about the highest contact he has.

"I'm telling you, Iris, it's true," Barry whines (sometimes it's hard to believe he's the Flash.) "Bruce Wayne and I are friends. If I called him up right now, he could answer. There's, like, a forty percent chance."

"Who the hell is Bruce Wayne?" Hal inquires around a mouthful of fancy food. 

"Jesus, Hal, we went over this," he replies. "Biggest influencer in Gotham City? Probably for several cities? Number one media conglomerate in the east coast? Owns Wayne Enterprises? Billionaire playboy?"

"How could you, a forensics scientist nerd who's only ever been able to get one girl in his lifetime, be friends with billionaire playboy Brucie?" Iris sips her wine. "Makes no sense. I just can't believe it."

Barry leans back, crossing his arms and huffing. "Just wait 'till he shows up. We'll exchange a few words."

"He's coming?" Hal swallows the food. "When-"

Just then, something in the room changes, and everyone seems to be whispering about one thing. Heads turn and glances are exchanged, lips pursed or curled up in an anticipating smirk. Two girls closest to their table, some blonde Hal recognizes as a supermodel and another that started a brand makeup line, actually take out pocket mirrors to check themselves.

"Do I look okay?" Barry asks, and Hal turns to laugh, but his expression is serious.  

Then Bruce Wayne enters, and chaos reigns.

"I'm going to get a few words out of him," says Iris, disappearing into the crowd without anything else, and Barry starts to follow, but then sits back down. "I'm going to be strong and wait until he comes to me," he says.

"If he ever does come," Hal mutters. Almost everyone there greets Wayne with words of welcome, and reporters are clamoring to get a quote. Camera flashes explode around the entire room. He hears words, mostly _Brucie- missed you- handsome- can we talk later-_ and he can't even see the guy, not really. Women practically seem to be throwing themselves at him.

Then after like ten minutes the buzz finally starts to fizzle down and Hal becomes momentarily distracted by a server holding a plate of delicious looking finger foods. Iris returns to their table, sitting down and beaming, a distant look in her eyes.

"Did you get your quote?" Barry asks.

"Damn right I got my quote," Iris says. "He is so dreamy in person. He smiled and called me _darling."_ She props her hand up on her chin while looking over her notepad. 

"I guess I should just leave, if you've found yourself a new man," Barry scoffs, then leans in. "Hey, did he say anything about me? I'm-"

"Barry Allen!" A raspy voice says from behind Hal. He turns around and tries not to spit out his food.

The man's gorgeous. A flawless face with impeccably cut cheekbones, an achingly sharp jawline, and jet black hair tousled to the point of perfection. His eyes are blue- but wait, they could be more gray- ringed with thick lashes- and Hal knows entire poems could be written about his eyes; in fact, they probably have been already. His suit is a precise match of the darkest black and lightest white, pressed, golden cufflinks shining, looking like more than Hal's apartment and car and yearly taxes put together.

Hal knows he's probably getting hard underneath the table, but he's too occupied to really tell. 

"It's been ages since I heard a fast talker," Bruce grins, but it's more of a smirk, lazy and unrefined yet incredibly sexy and suave at the same time. It's most definitely the only smile he ever displays. And something in the curve of that mouth, the glint in his eyes (they scream he knows something you don't) stir a sense of familiarity in Hal. 

"Hey, Bruce! What's up, my man?" Barry hastily stands to shake Bruce's hand.

"Nothing at all my friend," he says before turning to Iris. "And you- you're a clever one." Iris blushes. "And who might you be?" He looks directly at Hal. The white of his teeth are blinding.

"Hal Jordan," Hal says. His worries about Bruce Wayne being an airheaded douchebag fly out the door for the moment, because, come on, who could resist this much hotness? The dude has to be at least six feet. "Barry's best friend."

"Very nice to meet you," Bruce says with the air of someone who's said it a thousand times, and a girl somewhere in the distance squeals, "Brucie, come dance with me!"

"Duty calls," Bruce says. "It was nice to see you, Allen." He winks at Hal. And then he melts back into the crowd, although it's a mystery how a man like that could blend in anywhere. 

"You- you too," stutters Barry, long after he's gone, and Hal sits back, stunned. The three all share a moment of silence before launching into a heated discussion about the only thing that seems to matter that night.


	2. Chapter 2

"You will not believe who I met yesterday," Hal tries to control the utter excitement in his voice and ultimately fails. Batman doesn't even spare him a glance from the monitors, which already sufficiently conveys his disinterest and exasperation, but Hal can't contain himself. He dumps a load of sugar and splashes milk into his coffee, just the way he likes it. For Spooky he obviously keeps it black.

He turns with a coffee in either hand. "Bruce Wayne!"

Nope. Nothing. Not even a turn around. Hal frowns. Just his luck, getting stuck with monitor duty with Batman, of all people (how did that schedule even happen under both of their watches), after such a fantastic night. Any other Leaguer would've shown enthusiasm. Barry would've been content talking about it all day, Diana would be interested, even J'onn would want to know more, for God's sake, and Superman- well, Superman would _feign_ enthusiasm at the very least.

Hal stalks over to the monitors just as Batman finally turns around, receiving his coffee. "Why are you so excited?"

"I- What?" Hal is momentarily surprised that the other man is actually taking interest. "What do you mean, why am I excited? It's fucking Bruce Wayne! Unless, of course, you're too damn superior to be impressed by any other manly man who dares make a name for himself in the world-"

"You didn't even know who Bruce Wayne was," Batman turns around, voice sounding muffled.

"So not the point! I met him, and it's done. It was glorious."

"What could a billionaire playboy have possibly done to gain your respect?"

"He winked at me," Hal smiles, reminiscing. "After he said 'very nice to meet you.' It was love at first sight." He can't believe he's discussing this with Batman, but it somehow doesn't feel all that wrong. "I've got to see him again."

"I think you could do better," Batman adjusts one of the switches on the control panel.

"There is nothing better," Hal says, and before either of them can elaborate one wary Superman shows up looking for help cleaning up after an unexpected earthquake in Quinghai, China. 


	3. Chapter 3

"After the recent incident concerning a breach of trust, I, uh, started to rethink my values and the things I kept hidden from the team. Everyone knows each other's secret identities here except mine and Batman's." Superman stands in the front of the room, looking almost nervous. Hal would feel bad for him, except he's dying at the prospect of knowing. And a look around the table confirms he's definitely not the only one. 

Hal wonders what the face under Batman's mask will be like. Could it scarred and disfigured, or just average? And he didn't even consider the fact of Superman having a secret identity. How could he if he doesn't wear a mask?

"So we've decided that for the best interests of the League, and since we trust everyone here with our lives, revealing our secret identities would be the right thing to do." He continues. "Batman agrees." Batman narrows his eyes in a way that says he doesn't really agree, but he'll do so anyway thanks to Superman's persistent nagging and guilting.

"I guess I'll go first," says Superman, and the entire room seems to be holding its breath. 

After a whirlwind of color (mostly red and blue), a man appears in a casual work suit holding a briefcase. A pair of round spectacles sit on his nose. Somehow he altogether looks unassuming and unremarkable save for his obviously muscular build and reaching height. "Clark Kent, from the Daily Planet," he says, almost smiling.

Hal double-takes. Clark Kent? He's a well-known reporter, almost up there with Lois Lane. 

And the League explodes into comments and questions, but when Clark turns his head to Batman unexpectedly, everyone falls silent again. Hal can almost feel Spooky roll his eyes.

Batman takes the cowl off in one swift movement, and the piercing eyes are there, framed by thick lashes, upon a face etched into Hal's very memory. His hair is a little mussed in the sexiest way imaginable. He says curtly, "Bruce Wayne."

No one speaks or moves for a moment. Then Hal blurts, "Bruce, what the fu-"

* * *

"So that's why you weren't all excited," Hal bursts in upon the room he knew Bruce was definitely hiding in, and his suspicions were correct. Bruce stares at him, and Hal thinks it looks so strange, Batman's costume alongside Bruce's head, but at the same time it's perfect. "You're fucking Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne is the goddamn Batman! Holy shit! You know, Barry's actually blowing a fuse out there because he's practically in love with you, but like _both_ of you, and now he knows they're the same person- like-"

"Shut up," says Bruce, and kisses him. 

Hal's brain short circuits but he finds it in himself to inch his hands around Bruce and return the kiss with a surprised noise. They pull apart after a few seconds. 

"Now that you know the entire me," Bruce smiles ever so slightly, "I wanted to ask you out on a date."


End file.
